The 43rd Hunger Games!
by MeetVirginia
Summary: Same old Hunger Games, except this year they're held underground. Tributes are the capitols lab rats after all.
1. Reaping day: District One

**Hey! Here are the District One reapings!**

**I still have a lot of open spots so please SYOT or a bloodbath tribute!**

**Anyways... Hope you enjoy!**

**Gadriel POV**

When the doorbell rang, I was just stepping out of the shower. "Gadriel!" My father called up the stairs. "It's Starlight!" I could hear the annoyance in his voice.

I paused, pondering whether he was annoyed because I was running late, or because he'd have to talk to her while I was changing. I pulled on an emerald green suit quickly, smiling at the thought of my punctual father glancing at his watch, as Starlight yakked on about human rights or whatnot. I ran down to greet her. Reaping day, game on.

My father was standing at the bottom of the stairs, tall and stately. Once referred to as: The most attractive mayor of the past thirty years. You heard that right; my dad is the mayor of district one. Big deal.

Starlight stood with her back to the wall in a long blue dress. The dress was a good fit for her slightly more, what's the word? _Robusque _figure. And her dark flyaway curls were pinned back in a bun or whatnot.

"Hot," I mouthed. She tried to scowl in the way she always did, but ended up smiling. She stuck out her elbow dramatically.

"Care to escort me, sir?" I shook my head because my best friend was insane, and looped my arm through hers. It was a big deal in district one: Whom you walked to the reaping with. It was joke to me though, since: 1. I had nowhere to walk from 2. I had no one to go with. Funny right?

"Right!" My father said, back on target. "Its 8 o'clock right now, and they're going to begin shooting at 9. We need to be there early so I can run through my speech. If you want head back home Starlight, that's understood."

I rolled my eyes. Getting to the town square wasn't a matter of time; it was right outside our house! And my father's comment about "going home," was ridiculous. Starlight had shown up for me at 8 since our very first reaping. After all these years my father couldn't accept that I hung out with her instead of all the punch-each-other- to-say-hello boys I trained with.

"I think we're just going to chill out here for a bit," I said calmly. He paused for a second, mumbled something incomprehensible, and nodded, shutting the door firmly behind him.

"How are things with him?" Starlight asked, as we made our way to the living room.

"Same as ever," I said as I flopped down on our velvet couch, "He wants me to volunteer."

"At the reaping?" she asked. I nodded mutely. "Surely he doesn't think that," She continued, "you're his only son."

"Exactly, his only son, a disgrace. The way he sees it; I go in, and I come out with a headline in the paper: MAYORS SON WINS 43rd HUNGER GAMES. What's to lose?" I asked. We were silent, because we both knew the answer to that question.

"He really said that," she whispered to herself, but said nothing else. She knew I was to much a wimp to volunteer, even If that's wasn't how she saw it.

**Karia POV:**

I pulled the thin strap of my violet dress back onto my shoulder as I entered the town square. I immersed myself into the crowd quickly, walking numbly to my spot at the back, just in front of the twelve year olds. You could almost smell the fresh fear rising from them.

Onstage the mayor, the man my mother hated so much was talking, rumbling on in his chocolaty voice. I tuned out the speech. I already knew it by heart.

After an eternity of speeches and victor introductions, we all cheered as Opal Manning, the announcer from the capitol, walked onto stage. Her skin was white. And her hair was piled up on top of her head in a bright blue beehive. She flashed her toothy smile, positively beaming, as we applauded. At least she can be happy, I thought. Despite my smiles, my stomach was churning.

"Hello boooys aaand girlsss!" She called in her plasticy accent. "Well here we go," She sidestepped awkwardly over to the glass bowl, still beaming at the cameras.

"And the female tribute for District one is…" She paused for dramatic effect, and then looked up, giving the cameras a knowing smile. "Karia Wesley!" The usual applause followed. My mom started to scream. My stomach dropped, as I walked forward. Smile, I thought. Smile because this is such an honor, right?

I will admit, as I walked onto stage I still had the slightest hope it wasn't for real. District one had a long history of volunteers. But as the seconds past, true fear registered within me. The games had lost popularity here after watching last year's tributes bludgeon each other to death with clubs as their only weapon. My only remained this this: smile. A small thirteen-year-old girl never looked great to sponsors. A crying one looked even worse.

"How old are you Karia?"

"Thirteen" I said. She smiled. I smiled.

"Well you must be excited, right?" She asked in her over chirpy tone.

"Would you be?" I asked darkly.

She looked so shocked by my question, I felt bad for a second. But I grounded that thought down quickly. I was in the Hunger Games now, and that comment gave me an edge. Opal chuckled slightly, then turned back to face the cameras.

"And now, its time to announce our male tribute! The male tribute for district one is….Craven O' Fallen!" I watched a plucky, red haired 14-year-old make his way to the stage. His thick glasses magnified the tears in his eyes. That's when Mayor Phefferman cut in, grabbing the microphone from Opal Manning.

"Really?" He asked, addressing the audience. "No volunteers today?" Silence. "Where's the fighting spirit I love our district for?" The crowd stared up at him, blank eyed.

"Suicide _is _all the rage," I said before I could stop myself. Good thing I didn't have a microphone, because my voice only carried two rows out. But the mayor heard me, and glared. I realized that was the second time I'd challenged an adult on live television in the past few minutes. I stepped back.

The mayor cleared his throat loudly, "What about you Gadriel? Won't you volunteer?" I gasped. The betrayal washed through the audience like a tsunami. Gadriel Phefferman, he couldn't not-volunteer now. The district would scorn him forever. I watched as _the mayor's only son_ slowly made his way through the crowd.

"I volunteer," he said in a slow voice, not so much as glancing at his dad. The trembling fourteen-year-old stepped down from the stage, as Gadriel, the mayor's handsome sixteen-year-old son took his place.

"Well! This is something!" Opal Manning cried. "Lets here a round of applause for this young man," she said, clapping him on the back. The audience clapped half heartedly.

We turned to face each other to perform the traditional greeting tributes of district one do. We put our hands on each other's shoulders, and locked gaze. Nodded, then spun around and exited opposite sides of the stage. The regular applause fired up as we left, but I swore it was quieter than usual. Singed with the betrayal that the mayor had inflicted on his son.

As I was escorted off by peacekeepers, all I could think of were Gadriels eyes. In that second mine met his, it felt like we'd formed some secret alliance. The both of us would join the careers, of course. But I knew he was less malicious than the average volunteer. Maybe we'd be friends. But the thing was, Gadriel Phefferman only had one friend. Popularity wasn't his thing.

A lot of girls thought he was cute of course, but he was usually quiet and remote. I personally thought he was bit strange looking. His hair so blonde, almost white. His eyes so brown, almost black. But strange as he seemed to me, I cried for his misfortune once i was out of view. After that, I cried for mine.

**Gadriel POV**

I was taken to my own room, but it wasn't the same. Peacekeepers armed the door. And my father didn't love me. Of course I'd known that for some time, but to do this? He had to hate me, and I had no idea why. I had a reason to hate myself, of course. But how could he have found out?

I turned to my dresser, and ripped the lamp off, throwing it against the wall. This destruction went on for hours, until my hands were bloody, and I wanted to gag. I hated blood; it was the color of death. I hated death; it was the color of sorrow. With nothing left to destroy I ripped my clothes off, because _he'd_ given them to me.

The next morning I'd be found curled up naked. Great, they'd say; we're sending a little girl and a lunatic off to fight in the arena. Personally, I didn't give a fuck.

**Review to earn three points for your tribute!**

** Tell me if you want to sponsor Gadriel OR Karia for five!**


	2. Reaping day: District Two

**Disclaimer: I don't own the Hunger Games. **

**Hey guys! Sorry for not uploading a new chapter recently. My semester is ending, so last week and this week are insane! Anyway, This story is CLOSED. All tributes entered will be featured. So AHA: HERE IS DISTRICT TWO:**

**Adele- Violet Haze POV**

"Addie! We only have half an hour 'till the reaping!" Said my sister, Jenna impatiently. She wore a small pink dress that had long outgrown me, and her hair, like mine, was in a thick French braid. Despite the circles under her eyes she smiled as she marveled at my dress.

The dress had been in our store window for weeks. It was dark purple, with a full skirt, and a handful of ruffles that decorated the top. It looked ridiculous on a hanger, but on me it was perfect. Maybe a little dramatic, but what could I do? It had taken a half hour of bargaining for my father to so much as let me try it on. "The shop is not your personal wardrobe, Addie," He'd said with a sigh.

"You look really pretty," Jenna said.

"So do you! Wait-" I flipped to an empty page in my notebook and sketched a few lines of her framed in the doorway. I shut the notebook quickly, and stuffed it into my bag. I'd finish the drawing later. If I wasn't coming home today I wanted it with me.

I took one last fleeting glance in the mirror before I left: my pale skin, dark brown hair, and soft green eyes were still in check. But wherever I looked my eyes always fell back to my scar. It wasn't a gouge or anything, just a small scratch running over my upper lip. No, that's wrong. Scratches go away, my scar didn't. I knew trying to conceal would have been pointless at that point so I spun around and hurried downstairs.

"Oh honey, you look so pretty!" my mother cried. She was wearing a blouse and skirt instead of her usual lab coat. She looked tired, but smiled for my sake. "Are you read to go?"

My family and I walked to the reaping holding hands like we did when I was four. Only once they had "dropped me off" at my assigned section, did my smile break.

"How are they?" Tessellation asked. Who looked pretty in a mint green dress. I rolled my eyes. I knew they meant well. I really did. I almost felt guilty for my annoyance. But really, they had two daughters in the reaping, couldn't they worry about something other than holding hands?

**Arrow Smith POV**

I couldn't help but snort as I saw that girl walking by my house. Ali was it? Yeah, something like that. It was the pampered one with the scar on her lip. And she was no less holding hands with her parents. Ha.

At least she wasn't holding hands with a boy, I reminded myself. I had no patience for lovesick couples. They made me want to barf. And anyway, I had to admit she was looking good. She was maybe a year or two younger than me, and dressed like a fairy princess.

"I'm off," I called to my father, who was probably hung over somewhere. It was the only rule he had: I told him when I came and went. I took his leather jacket from the mantle because it was genuinely to cool for him, and headed out the door.

It was drizzling that day, so the path to town was muddy. I watched that fairy princess girl splash mud all over the back of her dress and felt bad, almost. She really was a weird girl. Every now and again I'd catch her drawing in our neighborhood and it totally unnerved me. She'd be sketching a tree, or something dumb like that. And all the while she was drawing; she was completely frozen. Try turning a corner and finding some psycho standing on the road, completely frozen, drawing a tree!

I arrived at the square just as the reaping began. To be honest, I tuned the whole thing out. I was good at that too. I focused on only hear sounds, and connected nothing. After a few minutes they might as well have been speaking in a different tongue. It was nonsense.

I only phased back when I noticed the crowd was silent. The hum had died and fairy princess girl was walking slowly to the stage. She looked terrified. I realized she'd probably been reaped. "Poor baby," I thought, "Where are your mommy and daddy now?" But somehow, that was to mean for even me to think whole-heartedly. I hated the Hunger Games. They were the stupidest thing ever.

I watched as she walked up the stairs to the stage. Her face was composed. Which almost impressed me. I continued to muse whether or not she'd break down, and I must say, at that point I wasn't in half bad mood.

Then they called the second name. "Arrow Smith!" My stomach dropped. I was going to die.

I walked onto the stage. And with each step I felt slightly better. Okay, maybe I would die. But truly, I could defend myself pretty well.

At school they gave us two hours of "recreational time" outside in a large arena. Okay, we were never told how to spend "recreational time." They didn't dare. But even a bloke like me could figure it out. Any kid in district two could fight by the time they were eight. And as we got older, and weapons were introduced into the arena, our skills grew vast as the sky.

**Adele- Violet Haze POV**

I watched him lumber forward: this tall boy, with inky hair, and hazel eyes. He was glaring at our escort, Helix Espy, and casting dark glances at me on a wheel of every two seconds. I tucked a lock of damp hair behind my ear. Had I seen him before? I didn't think so, but there was something vaguely familiar about his face. For an ally, I realized. He wouldn't be half bad. We were district partners after all, maybe he'd be nice. Then I shook slightly, surprised I was already thinking like the games.

The ceremony ended. I was escorted to a room. And my family rushed in soon after, crying and sobbing and shaking. My friends washed through after that. I can't remember that part as well. It was blurry from the tears. There were lots of hugs and kisses, and promises. When it was over I just sat there. I wasn't going to see my family again.

**Review, Review, Review!**

**If you'd like to sponsor Addie or Arrow this chapter ALONG with your tribute (if you have one,) Please specify.**

**THX- Victoria**


	3. Reaping day: District three

**Cathryn (Kitty) Louise Stone POV**

I could not fathom red and green. Color blindness they called it, "It was more popular in the dark days." I looked into the mirror blankly. My hair was brushed and shining. _"Your hair is a crisp autumn leave, a drop of blood, a pitted cherry,"_ Those were the words Harry had once used to describe it. They remained empty words to me, but very pretty ones at that. My eyes clouded, as I encompassed the memory of that old summers day.

"_Scorched lips, a beating heart, a pretty girl, true love…" Harry continued, his voice smooth and lemony. I stopped his description of red right there. _

"_Thank you, I always wanted to know what color true love was," I said, rolling my eyes. I meant to say it lightly, but he saw straight through me. _

_I was constantly frustrated with these colors that I couldn't see! I loathed red and green; they were both washed out and gray to me. I watched a slight frown slide onto his lips; he knew he'd upset me. Harry hesitated, and then plucked a leaf from the end of the tree branch I was perched on _

"_What color is this?" He asked, looking up at me._

"_Green." I answered with a sigh, "Leaves are green."_

"_Yes, but remind me, what does green look like?" He gave me one of those infectious smiles, cocking his head slightly._

"_Like the sun, but darker. Gray, almost." I said, wondering just how wrong I was. He held the leaf out to my face. _

"_This is the color of true love." He said, tickling my cheek with the tip of it. "May it live and prosper." I snorted at that. He mocked sadness, and I slid down from my tree branch to stare better into his dark eyes. I wrapped my hands around his neck, and felt him slip the leaf into my back pocket…_

I shook back to reality. All that was left to see were my eyes. Gray, a mocking gesture: as if the gray iris turned my vision that very same color. I noticed a tear crowding the corner of my eye; I wiped it away with my finger quickly. _You'll be with Harry soon,_ I told myself. Today would change everything.

I'd applied for Tesserae 74 times. And when I went back again the previous night the peacekeeper, my father's friend, had just shaken his head. "You're done Kitty," he said. I reckoned the starving had swarmed him earlier that night. People did all sorts of crazy things the night before the reaping. I nodded, accepting the justice of it, and turned on my heel.

My father was a peacekeeper. We didn't need the food. But that didn't stop me from stock piling the tesserae, just in case something happened once I was gone. You never know. What if the peacekeepers stumbled past our open window at night, and heard one of _their own_, my father cursing the capitol? I wanted the comfort that my brother Jeffrey could live 80 years off tesserae if he had to. The tesserae was left as a farewell present. I wouldn't be coming back.

80 slips of paper with my messy handwriting were littered in the ball that day, waiting out the last few minutes before the reaping began. I hoped that I was chosen, but if not I'd volunteer. The downside was that it was much longer process. Tributes from 1, 2, and 4 were the ones who usually volunteered. This year I'd fill in that awkward gap. If the odds aren't in my favor, Cathryn Louise Stone will be volunteering from three, as well.

I fastened myself into my black dress, and felt it mold comfortably around the curves of my body. I tied the "pink" ribbon that encircled my waist into a fat bow, and faced my reflection. Pale skin. Gray eyes. Shining hair. I was camera ready. I shut the latch on my door. I could count my days on fingers and toes. I was ready, unlike Harry.

**Click Bass POV**

"Click, We're going to be late!"

"What are you going to do? Kill me?" I called back merrily. My father grumbled something undecipherable, and kicked my door before thumping down the stairs. I headed after him quickly, and grabbed a piece of burnt toast, upon entering the kitchen. "What, no waffles?" I asked through a mouthful of toast.

My mother rolled her eyes. "Not since someone turned the waffle press into an automatic syrup dispenser." Her hands were on her hips, but I knew she wasn't angry. No one took anything for granted on reaping day.

I headed to the reaping. It used to be at the town square, but since the sudden population growth in district three they held it in a large grassy meadow. I sighed. At fifteen I was halfway through my reaping years. And had been lucky thus far. I penned into the large crowd of fifteen year old males when a voice caught my attention.

"That one, I bet you that one!" An old man suddenly called from the sidelines. Pointing a long crooked finger at me. His eyes were so blue; I would have sworn he was blind. I rolled my eyes, and yet my stomach dropped. "I'll take you up on that," I called back more bravely than I felt. "There's nothing they can do, I'm not putting one foot in that arena." I pulled a coin from my pocket and waved it tauntingly, before immersing myself in the crowd.

I was wrong. They called my name only a few seconds later. Well, no. First they called Niley, my twelve-year-old neighbor. And some red head I'd never seen took her place. How does she know Niley? I wondered. But shrugged it off. That's when they called my name. And my stomach plummeted. And my heart raced. And my legs turned to jelly. Yet I walked forward.

"And our tributes from district three, lets hear a round of applause for Click and Cathryn!"

**I'm going to be posting a new chapter every week**

**Review to earn your tribute three points, and specify Click or Cathryn/Kitty to give them an extra five!**

**THX**


	4. Reaping day: District Four

Blarick Anders POV

"Charibdis Fringe!" She called. I watched from the crowd as a small twelve year old in a pleated blue dress stepped to the stage. Usually when a twelve year old is reaped people groan at the tragedy, but this twelve year old didn't let you. There was something about her. Maybe it was the scar running across her cheek. Or that she looked so different from the rest of us. District four was a very fair district. "Sun stained," people called it: light hair and bronze skin. This girl however, was different, almost capitol- like. Her hair was red, her eyes a deep green, and her skin was pale ivory. She gave a small little smirk, like she knew something we didn't. I frowned.

"What's your name?" Asked our escort, Nurse Bones. The girl rolled her eyes. She had a point; they had called her name only seconds before.

"Cherry," she said cooly.

"Lovely! And now for our guy tribute…Blarick Anders." Utter terror came with all the usual symptoms. I had just stepped onto the stage, avoiding eye contact with Cherry, when someone volunteered in my place. I blew a sigh of relief, and hurried back into the crowd. I didn't want to face the girl no one wanted to replace.

"What's your name?" Nurse Bones asked the new tribute.

"Skye Thorne," he answered winningly. He was a career, no doubt. Trained for this moment. Seventeen. With messy gold hair, dark eyes, and bronze skin.

"Lets here a big round of applause for our tributes of District Four! Cherry Fringe and Skye Thorne!" The anthem played as they were escorted off.

Charibdis Fringe POV

I sat there. Surprised more than upset. I only had two visitors, first my mother, than Keaton. My stomach fluttered when I saw him. Ugh, I was turning into such a priss.

He came in and sat next to me silently. "Are you going to win?" He asked. For someone a year older, he sure was dumber than me.

"Of course, Keaton. God." We sat in silence for a while, before I worked up the nerve to continue. "And when I come back, we're going to make them build us a boat, the biggest boat they can. And you're going to drive it out, and we're just going to sit there for a week and stuff our faces with delicacies and roll in our money." I looked over, he was holding onto every word.

"Our?" he asked.

"Yes ours: the victor, and victor's friend's. You can move in with us, my mother and I. And we won't have to work. We can burn down all the bait shops in the area." I hated bugs. I turned to him darkly, "Swear to it," I said, holding out my pinky. "You have to promise to be happy, Keaton."

"I promise, Cherry." He said, smiling. "That's a good plan." He kissed me quickly on the lips and fled. I smiled. Nothing could shake me from our destiny. I was so sure.

**Review, Review, Review!**

**Sorry this chapters so short. I'm trying to squeeze in more because at this pace it will be a century before i finish the reapings. **

**THX- V**


	5. Reaping day: District Five and Six

There's some cursing in this one, be warned.

**DISTRICT FIVE REAPINGS**

Dria Skybirne POV

Crumbling. Why was it quiet? I walked forward slowly, my ears ringing. I wanted to scream. I wanted to roar, but the silence rung on.

"Wow! How is the honor of your new reapness feeling?" The escort asked in his plastic Capitol accent.

"Relatively inconsequential. Quiet." I said, "Can't you feel the malice suffocating you?" The escort looked around cautiously, as if "malice" was a gas about to turn his face blue. _Hmm_, I mused, _I thought long works only confused small children. _The escort stepped away slowly, glancing from me to the audience with unease.

"And now the male tribute, Gary Whitjay!" I watched my opponent walk to the stage: analyzing him. A blow to the head, an arrow to the heart: all possible. My shell was up. It was the inside crumbling. I almost missed it, so receded in myself. **Someone volunteered.**

Carter Thres POV

I felt really sad. I thought of Gary's sister and all those other people waiting for him to come home. He didn't deserve to die in the Hunger Games. I raised my hand, and walked forward. "I volunteer" I called. I immediately caught eyes with the female tribute, Dria. She was a really pretty asian girl, and I almost forgot why I was there. I ran to the stage to make up for lost time. I patted my best friend on the back, and took his place next to Dria. She didn't deserve to die either. But maybe she didn't have to, I thought. She looks like a fighter. I greeted the kind escort, and well that's it. That's how I ended up in the Hunger Games.

**DISTRICT SIX REAPINGS**

Vecinta Mesa POV

People were so rude. Even then, after four years, I could feel them staring. I entered the town square and sat down on the chalky bricks. Everyone else stood. You all deserve to die in the Hunger Games, I thought darkly.

"Deidre Walters." It unnerved me. If there was one person who didn't deserve to die, it was Diedre. It's not that she and I were friends, because we weren't. I didn't have friends. But I couldn't ignore what happened:

_It was a day in mid Febuary. It was bitter cold, and rain pelted the muddy path to my house. Leo Tit-face and his friends were trudging after me, calling out "disses." And eventually, yes, caught up with me. Their next move was to fling mud. My fingers were on the hilt of my knife, when she ran up: Deidre. _

"_Find something better to do!" She yelled, approaching Leo dangerously. She was really pretty, so he almost stopped in his tracks. Her next move was to spit in his face. Then we ran. _She'd tried to reach out for me since that day. But like I said, I didn't have friends.

"I volunteer!" I said, springing up. Deidre looked at me in surprise, but my eyes flitted down. We weren't friends. I had a debt to her, I told myself. And now it was repaid.

As the seconds passed, it seemed like a better idea. I felt content for the first time since my parents cut off my hand. Looking down at the District that ostracized me because the experiment failed. I thought: you feel bad now, don't you?

"And our male tribute is… Leo Tilton!" I grinned genuinely. The applause rounded up again, and we stood there next to each other. Him: in a goofy tuxedo. Me: in a black tank top and pants. For the first time i felt something, not hope, but contentment maybe? I didn't mind so much that I was going to die. And now I could take my tormenter with me. I winked at him. How does it feel now, tit-face?

**Dria, Carter, Vecinta, Leo**

**What do you guys think about them?**

**Sorry this chapter is short. I'm really eager to get to the arena.**


	6. District Seven AND NEW PENNAME

**District 7 Reapings**

Ruby Velvette POV

Shelley gently slid the last of the clips into my hair. I looked up, studying myself first. My dark curls were adorned with golden butterfly clips. And Shelley had festively tied a gold ribbon around the waist of my simple white dress.

Next my eyes fell on my seventeen year-old sister. Shelley's skin was stark white, and dark circles rung her eyes. A bruise ran the fall of her cheekbone and her lips were puffy. My sister was dying and no one knew why. But today she was just Shelley, because the reaping ball didn't care.

I looked at her, and smiled. My sister was beautiful. We were alike, yes: same dark hair, and small frame. But her eyes were green, while mine was spit brown.

"You look pretty," I said. Hugging her waist.

"So do you," she replied. "Lord hope we don't get reaped."

"We won't," I reassured her. "I'd volunteer for you, don't worry."

"Hey!" She said, sitting back down. "I'm the older sister here!"

"Girls" My mother called. She peddled in the wheel chair that my father had carved for Shelley, and we were off to the reaping.

Will Davis POV

I made my way through the crowd, eyes scanning for Mae. Only two more reapings, I reminded myself. But to be honest, I wasn't nervous. Yes, there were more slips with my name in the ball this year. But I was 4/6ths of the way through. I was more worried for Mae, to go into the arena pregnant? I'd prefer death to watching my fiancée and child slaughtered. So when they called the female tribute, I was relieved. But pleased would be a cruel thing to say. I watched stonily as Shelley Velvette pedaled her way to the stage. Her hands were trembling, and her lips were puffy. She was shaking her head and staring into the crowd, at her sister I think? The picture came together when the youngest Miss Velvette raced to the stage to volunteer, and Shelley started to howl.

Ruby Velvette POV

I composed myself easily. When your mothers emotional, your sisters sick, and your fathers bitter, you learned to be calm. I smiled, tucked my hair back, and greeted the escort. At least it's not Shelley up here, I reminded myself, and that helped me keep my bearings. Next they called the male tribute.

"Will Davis!" Immediately a large brown haired boy ripped through the crowd. He jumped the divider and entered the female pens. A small pregnant girl rushed forward, and I glanced at my feet as he kissed her steadily. There was something so desperate in it; I wanted to cry. I'm sorry, I thought miserably. We're alike, you and I. We both have someone who needs us to come home.

Will Davis POV

I shook hands with Ruby tenderly, because it was so horrible, and only we knew how it felt. But immediately after, I drew back: puffing up my figure. I was tough guy now. I had to be. Or I'd leave another child without a father.

**Quick Note: I changed my penname. **

**I WAS .. and NOW I'm MeetVirginia. Which do you guys prefer? My old one was kind of long.**

**Anyway, anyone like Will and Ruby? **

**Will reminds me of our dear friend Kitty. Lets hope he doesn't abandon Mae the same was Harry abandoned Kitty. Ugh, darn these Games! But then again, if they didn't exist what would I have to write about?**

**OK ramble over**

**Peace out!**


	7. Reaping day: District Eight

**Arya Moreno POV **

I swear my heart felt it before I turned the corner. Dumott wrapped around another blond tramp. I recognized her immediately. Nausicaa Andrews, the worst part: she was nice. I turned to go quietly, but they saw me and quickly untangled. "Sorry," I said, blushing furiously.

"No, It's our own fault," He said. I glanced back at him desperately, before turning the corner again. Can't you see I'm in love with you? I wanted to ask. But I knew the answer. Dead no. I was pathetic. Dumott Schunard was rich, spontaneous, and breathtakingly gorgeous. He didn't know I loved him. Hell, he didn't know me. Ayra Moreno, a scared and quiet girl of sixteen.

I quickly readjusted my pale pink dress and sped off. I'd have to take the long way to avoid him. And turning back was not an option.

**Dumott Schunard POV**

It was awkward standing between Nausicaa and the girl in the pink dress. All I remember thinking is that she was pretty: really pretty. I struggled to remember her name for a second, but gave up quickly. _There are a lot of pretty girls_, I thought, and forgot all about her. We met formally that afternoon. But first they reaped my name-

"Dumott Schunard." I walked, hands shaking onto the stage. I looked down at the crowd, swallowed my fear and smiled. I pretended it was some kind surprise. Then they called the girls name-

"Aveline Yaxford." Suddenly the girl from the alleyway appeared: the one in the pink dress. _Her names Aveline?_ I thought. _Wait , that's not Aveline. She has blonde hair, not black-_

"I volunteer," called the girl in the pink dress as she rushed to the stage. She mounted the platform next to me, and gasped for breath. She smiled through tears.

"Hey," I said in a winning style. "What's you name?" She squeaked and vied away from me. I frowned slightly.

**Arya Moreno POV**

He didn't know my name. I'd just volunteered to save him and Dumott Schunard didn't know my name. Part of me wanted to collapse on the floor, but part of me smiled. _Just another girl,_ I thought. _I could be just another girl. _I didn't regret volunteering, not for a second. I knew the real Dumott: the one who slipped spare change into the Orphan Box, and sang when he thought he was alone. I knew he deserved to live. So I turned to face him, and smiled right back.

**This is probably my shortest chapter. How about this? If I get enough reviews I'll post district nine tonight! I'm going to finish them by next monday, pinky-promise.**


	8. Reaping day: District Nine and Ten

**District 9 Reapings**

Raven Nevra POV

I grabbed an apple, and made my way to the reapings. My dark hair was tied up, and my eyes bottomless. A few people cast glances at me nervously. Let them stare; I wasn't going to say anything. If I had my arrow I'd take them all down, right through the eye. That would teach them. I silently funneled into my spot. After an eternity of boring speeches they reaped my name. My name, and quietly I crept to the stage. I tried to look venomous as I stared back at the crowd. Well you've picked yourself a winner, I thought. But the odds weren't in my favor yet.

Derek Skyver POV

People liked to stare at me. Too bad, they hated talking to me. And true, I was a bit of a spectacle. Dark hair cut purposely over my scarred eye, pasty white skin, and dark eyes. My muscles were pieces of meat, beat black. And all the same I tried to catch each stare, hoping maybe one day they'd just want to be friends.

"Raven Nevra" They called. I watched the bold girl walk onto the stage.

"Derek Skyver," that was me. I knew immediately that no one would volunteer. My parents beat me. My peers hated me. I sighed and walked to the stage. The Hunger Games could be an improvement over my situation. Raven and I shook hands quickly. Her eyes dropped to my tattoo. And I put my hand over my wrist to cover it. My hand was still clamping the black teardrop tattoo when I was left alone in my quarters. No one visited.

**District 10 Reapings**

Scarlett X POV

That morning I threw on a tunic and leggings quickly. A low growling came from behind me as I turned to leave. "Shushh Jara," I said, petting the wolf. I took a piece of meat from the meat box coaxingly, and left it on the steps to appease her.

I began the walk to town early. It had been a while since I'd been down the isolated path. And the soft ground sunk beneath my bare feet. I whistled under my breath until the birds fell in tune, and tried to soak in the beautiful day.

The square was crowded and bustling. People cast looks at me warily: oh that girl, the one who lives in the woods. I shrugged good-naturedly. They could deal with it. I calmly made my way to the fourteen-year-old section, and waited. The reaping began in the traditional way. They read the speech about Panem. Then greeted past victors (which there were five or six of.) The sun was peaking through the leaves. And everything was cast in patterns of light. It was a humid day, and gnats swarmed our faces like veils.

"Scarlett…X?" My eyes immediately fell from the sky to the stage. They'd called my name. I was reaped. I quickly worked my face into a calm mask. And, breathing deeply, I walked to the stage. The escort: Beatie Bright, had long false eyelashes glued to her eyes. And the gnats avoided her toxically.

"And now" She said, turning away from me. "The male tribute….Blaise Calder!"

Blaise Calder POV

I woke up late that morning, probably because Merill had hidden the alarm clock again. Delphine was standing over me, her braids in disarray, tugging on my shirt with her small hands. "Blaise, wake up." She said in her soft voice. "It's almost six!" My eyes flew open, and I sprung up quickly. Causing Delphine to burst into giggles.

"Thanks Delphine!" I said, and pulled my rubber boots over my breeches. No one had school, it was reaping day. Maybe if I finished my chores early I could spend the day with Nova! I scrambled off. I'd already wasted precious time.

I grabbed a stick from the trees lining our farm, and headed to the sheep fields. Twenty-five of our finest lambs need to be in the roadside pen by twelve, when the peacekeepers came. It was a long walk, and my sleep shirt soon stuck to my skin. So I was instantly relieved when I saw the sheep already rounding the corner, my cousin Palmer shepherding them forward. I hurried to greet him, breathing words of thanks.

"Its fine," he said. "I was down that way anyway. Here, I'll make you a deal. I'll do your chores today. But you owe me one." I smiled, shook my head, and ran off. Palmer had this strange favor system. Every now and then he'd come to your rescue, only to sabotage you with a favor you owed him later. It was a dangerous game, but today I took it.

I instantly ran to the loft and pulled on my best clothes: a white button down shirt, and my grandfather's pants. I worked water through my matted brown hair, and scraped the dirt off my olive skin. I helped Delphine into her pressed pink dress, and tried to catch hold of Merril long enough to brush his hair. I sighed looking at the two. My little brothers shirt was buttoned wrong, and one of Delphines braids were crooked. Nonetheless, they were clean and presentable. Better off than most district ten kids.

"Blaise?" Delphine asked.

"Yes."

"Where are you going?"

"I'm going to see Nova." I answered patiently. Merril made kissing faces, causing Delphine to shriek with laughter.

"Can I come with you?" Merrill asked, gluing himself to my leg.

"Why don't you help Grandma with the meal? I heard she brought a live chicken home from the market." I said. At that Merrils eyes grew wide, and he sprinted off.

"Blaise?" Delphine asked quietly. "Can I go out to the daisy fields?"

"Later," I promised, kissing her on the head. "Now why don't you go help Grandma too?"

That was the last time I saw my little sister. I made my way to the gate where Nova stood waiting. Her dirty blonde hair loose around her shoulders.

"You look beautiful," I said. Causing the both of us to blush. We took hands and raced to the barley fields. Oh Nova. Hers were the eyes I first found when I got reaped. When my hands shook as I walked calmly to the stage, desperately searched for my little siblings Delphine and Merril. I caught Nova's eyes as they led me away, knowing I wouldn't see them again. They'd banned visiting tributes since the year someone brought in a knife, because the tribute stabbed him self. "To dangerous," they said. I always found this sadly ironic. Tributes were going to the Hunger Games after all. I wondered what I'd do if someone gave me a knife. I found out soon enough.


End file.
